True Intentions
by Janazza
Summary: Pitch Black has his own experiences that Sandman never knew of nor did the other guardians. But now, on a winter night with the Moon's view shrouded by a grey sky, he would finally shed some light on the dark side of the Moon.


**_True Intentions_**

Never had he minded the blanketing darkness. After all, his job had involved the night for thousands of years, since the Moon asked him to become a guardian, and he was practically his own candle. Nestling on a cloud made of warm sand, the Sandman sent out in streams down the streets of Burgess, splitting off into smaller strands like the branches of tree to the windows of the sleeping families that he would look over until the sun peeked over the distant mountains that would beckon for him to move west.

It was a fun job- sleeping, dreaming, traveling, observing. It was the life he chose when he said yes to the Moon and took his guardian oath, and now his life was bound to the children he protected and cherished. It's beautiful to watch them grow with imagination so wide and powerful that they could build anything in their dreams, yet it was always sad the day they forgot him and their imagination faded.

A winter crisp wind wisped through the land, nipping at his toes and nose. Jack Frost was close by waiting for the Sandman to sprinkle his dream sand to protect from the night from nightmares.

If only he'd been friends with Jack from the start of his new life, Jack wouldn't have had nightmares. He remembered when he first came across the frost boy with black sand plaguing around his head, telling a story that Jack was forced to live through every night. Figures made of obsidian balanced on unstable ground until one of them fell through, leaving the figure of Jack Frost alone on the top.

It had been so obscured for the gold man that he was still trying to decipher the dream when the scene shifted to men fighting men, some terrorizing women and children that were running away from the huts and cabins that soon crumbled. The chills didn't stop crawling down Sandy's spin even after he chased away the nightmares.

After that incident, he'd vowed to himself to never let the winter spirit to dread going to sleep again, vanquishing any possibility of nightmare sand to corrupt th boy's subconscious. Sandy made it a tradition to always scout for him and drop a little extra sand, always ensuring for sweet dreams. The wind dragged around him, whispering greetings and promises of play and winter fun. Assuming that he was in the forest, Sandy made his way to the tall pines on the edge of the town where a pond and sleeping spirit lent against the trunk of a tree could be found.

Blue-veined eyelids fluttered from a mind ready for a dream, fair hair overhand past the hood of a blue jumper, and uncallused hands grasped lightly to a shepherd's crook like a child and his favorite stuffed bear. Snow blanketed the earth, yet the boy slept on with soft, deep breaths unlike any human child. An immortal child, frozen in time with untainted fun and joy like any child would before age changed them.

Interesting as it is, Sandy had never been told the story of Jack Frost, of how his life was as a human or immortal. Though he considered the boy family now, he knew as much as the next spirit: Jack Frost was fond of pranks and horsing around, freezing objects and sassing elders, always smiling. But that's as far as he'd ever gotten. Don't get him wrong, he understood something happened when he was gone, something about Easter and Pitch finally giving Jack his tooth box, yet never had the boy or the guardians push the subject. That memory was to stay buried. The last time Bunny brought it up, Jack become unusually quiet and ran off as soon as they turned their heads. Same with sharing stories about their years before guardianship; Jack would never say and would switch the subject or leave.

Of course, none of them pushed, not wanting the newest member to leave.

The clouds were coming in tonight, he noticed as he landed with a _crunch_ under his feet. Sandy didn't know how Jack could be so quiet when he walked through snow when he, a small man, likely unsettled all the nesting birds in the forest. Silently chuckling, Sandy made his move towards the boy, preparing loose sand in his hand and dashing the gold dust over the hooded boy's head.

Immediately, it took effect with luminous dream sand shifting and forming familiar faces and recognizable buildings and art. A smile played at the edges of the frost boy's lips before he shifted and closed in on himself, becoming a snuggled ball and never noticing the gold man standing before him.

Sleep is beautiful.

Sandy took a moment to look up at the sky, noticing that clouds shrouded his sight from the glimmering stars in a grey film. His home was once a star, one that could be seen from earth from all the dream sand, but thousands of years ago it crashed to earth's surface and became it's own island. Of course, no one would ever see it on regular maps, but it existed to him and other spirits and young children with the ability to dream it up.

Strangely, only the Moon, a waning sliver now, shone between the gloomy mass of clouds until it too was slowly swallowed. Something wasn't right. Hearing the shift of clothes and snow, Sandy looked at the sleeping spirit, viewing the loss of his smile and in its place confusion- discomfort.

"Sanderson."

The said man whipped around far too quick, for a headache began to pulse, but that didn't matter. Any color that had been in his cheeks was gone, his plump stomach tying in a knot with a lump in his silenced throat. The tone, that mix of a sneer, pleasure, and embedded formality sent a chill down his spine.

He wasn't supposed to be here. Not this early.

It was dark with the absence of a moon and stars. Even the gold man's usually light, both exterior and inner, seemed to be sucked out of him, clenching his throat and shortening his breaths. Silver and gold-laced eyes watch him intently, readying to strike its prey, hidden beneath the obsidian shadows given from the towering pines.

He shouldn't rise until another hundred years at least.

Never had Sandy been afraid of the dark, nor had he ever been forced through a nightmare, but the mere sight of the figure was worst than any nightmare could ever be. They didn't call him the King of Shadows for nothing.

Jack. He's after Jack. He's going to hurt him.

Stepping from the darkness beneath the trees and into the small clearing, a silhouette stood before him, jet black hair that matched his attire and grey skin. The only color on the man was in his eyes, the intricate gold swirling around a black pupil and itself surrounded by grey. Once had those eyes been entirely gold, back before everything happened, before the dark ages, when the Nightmare King was once known as a hero the Golden Age.

But the good in him broke a long time ago.

In a rush of adrenaline, gold whips stood ready in his small hands, the gold man in a fighting stance. If Pitch Black was here, there would only be war.

"Easy Sandman," Pitch cooed, raising his hands slowly in an open gesture, like he was waiting for an embrace. "I have no intention to fight with you."

Jack. He didn't say anything about Jack. His grip only tightened. Never would Pitch get near his family again.

"I am only here to... discuss a subject with you. There's only so many chances when the Man in the Moon is not watching."

Sandy thought it was a trick. After all, when has the man ever spoken the truth? Lies. All he could ever expect from Pitch Black was lies. Nothing else would ever be constant except his desire unending desire to bring fear. The gold man lit the clearing, glistening the ice of the lake and casting a reassuring glow over the silent winter spirit. Not wanting to play charades, he wrote in gold loopy yet haste letters.

_Leave us alone. Go._

"Again, I'm not here to fight."

_What do you want?_

"A chance to speak." Never did their eyes leave each other. Neither one would back down, yet Sandy understood that he had little chance protecting Jack. The two of them, he and Pitch, were master of sleep. If one was not playing with Jack's subconscious, the other was. There would be no waking Jack Frost, not without the threat of nightmares. Sandy had to keep the peace as long as he could. _We don't wish for another war between each other. If you attack, I assure you the guardians will not hesitate._ Pitch understood. If he slipped up again, they would have no hesitation to finally end him.

"Understood." He stepped closer to the light, setting the gold man on edge. Gold eyes landed on the blue hooded figure beside him. "It's been a long time since I've seen the twisted memories of Jack Frost. You know, I've known the boy far before you ever did."

Was he gloating? Did he really just shove one of the guardians' biggest fails into his face? Why wouldn't he just leave?

"Has he ever told his story?" It unnerved him that the gold laced eyes never left the boy, but he shook his head. Pitch probably already knew the answer. "Did you ever think there was a reason why?"

Yes. Of course there was a reason, yet it wasn't Sandman's job to snoop into someone's person life.

"I figured, since you were family that he'd finally open up to you, but it appears I was wrong." He let out a soft chuckle. "Stubborn child."

Despite his first wish, Sandy finally asked, _why?_

Pitch finally wrenched his eyes away from Jack. "Tell me, who made you who you are? Who gave you the power you possess as a guardian?"

Reluctantly, he replied. _The Man in the Moon, Tsar Lunar._

"Now, who made the others guardians?"

Did Pitch not realize that the two of them were nearly the same age?

"Yes, I know I'm asking you silly questions, but have you ever sat down and thought of all the things Lunar can do?"

Yes... No. Sandy knew he was powerful, but never had he taken that much thought at the idea that he was great enough to make them all guardians. Sandy's stance loosened ever so slightly.

The Nightmare King clasped his hands in front of him, fidgeting, anxious. Or riled up. "And here are my real questions: One, why is that in order to become a guardian, you must depend your entire life on whether or not a child believes in you, that if all of them were to forget you that you would fade away?" He stepped closer. "If he is the great and powerful, how come he's restricting you?"

Sandy was taken aback. Where did that come from? He guessed the Pitch, after being forced into hiding for so long over and over again that there was plenty of time to be stuck in his own thoughts. How Pitch Black remained sane, he didn't know. But the question was something he would never have expected from Pitch or truly anyone else.

But before he could answer, the man continued. "Second," he started, clasping a hand over his heart, "have you ever wondered about the Moon's reasoning to his actions towards Jack?"

He hesitated, writing, _What do you mean?_ over his head. Jack was meant to stay out of the conversation as much as possible. _  
_

Pitch shook his head, glancing at his feet, hiding a sad smile, a memory surfacing. "Three hundred years is an awfully long time to be alone, to be unseen, to be hated by the only ones that _could_ see you." The memory was over powering, even Sandy could feel the tension in the air. With rage laced into every word, he asked, "What kind of reason could the Man in the Moon, the all and powerful, have that would make _this_ acceptable?"

This was nothing the Sandman had ever expected to come from the dark man's mouth. _Why do you care?_ he signed to him. He felt threatened. Any second he would pounce on him or Jack, and his words were against them nonstop. But it wasn't like Sandy never thought about what he said involving Jack. After all, Jack Frost was only 14 and had no one to guide him. It would make any child dysfunctional.

"They say the the Man in the Moon is good and king and a protector," he continued, "but have you thought that he might just be using you? I mean, look at you. You once lived a star that he as a child wished upon, a being seen as far greater than he."

Sandy started to write, _How do you even know this? _but it was no use. It went unnoticed by the Nightmare King, and with every second the darkness seemed to grow thicker, swamp-like.

Gold eyes grew colder and colder with every worst, threatening to take the Sandman's very soul if he strained too close. "Now look at you. Your status has changed, and you're nothing more than a loyal dog to him to do all the hard labor. That man will never have a callus on his hand because of the way you guardians never to declining him."

Sandy had enough. How_ can you even insult him? Man in the Moon has always been looking out for children and their childhoods. He created the guardians to protect their childhood from the likes of you. Why should I trust what you say? _That's what Sandy had always known. Pitch was bad, and MiM good. The two never crossed the line and neither did the guardians, who stood at Tsar Lunar's side.

At that, Pitch laughed. "This war has been longer between Lunar and I than it has been for you or the other guardians. There are things that happened, things I'm sure he'd kept secret from you." The smile was gone, leaving a chilling sneer. "I've watched my opponent and every action he's taken to benefit himself. I watched him suppress your power, create Jack Frost and leave him to wallow in solitude. _Never_ did he think of telling you or the other guardians about his existence or that he would soon be your ally because, somewhere inside the Man on the Moon, there's a darker side that just likes watching the world's reactions."

He paused. In nothing more than a softness that belonged to the night, he whispered. "Don't you see? He's experimenting his power on all of you."

Sandy didn't understand everything. _Why are you even telling me this?_

Again, a chuckled escaped his lips, but this time a little broke, quieter than before. He glanced at the boy still sleeping soundly against the tree, his breaths and even and eyes moving rapidly to a dream Sandy had given him. "To make sure it never happens again."

Sandy's attention was pulled to the tinted blue light that started to blotch the snow, growing rapidly. Pitch hissed, moving back and into the shadows again. "It's been too long." He stared at the Sandman, searching for any emotion besides confusion as to all that had been said to him. He shook his head, backing away from the two guardians. "Be ready for the day that he throws you away." Stepping into a shadow, his body melted and faded, taking him somewhere out of sight from the Man in the Moon.

After his leave, Sandy stared up towards the luminous Moon the pushed through the clouds, an overseer of the world and its people. He wasn't sure what to believe anymore, but once he heard the shift of the winter spirit behind him, he started to really think, organizing the information in his mind, comparing and contrasting stories. The Man in the Moon, Tsar Lunar couldn't be the bad that Pitch Black said, right?

But he was right about Jack Frost.

And there was little he knew about Tsar Lunar to be honest.

What would he tell the others? No, he couldn't. The fact that he even listened to the Nightmare King, his greatest rival, would be catastrophic on his part. Sandy was never very good with explaining things, so if he were to tell them, would they simply wipe away the idea of MiM being more than just a godly figure?

He made his decision.

He took one last look at Jack Frost before forming a cloud of dream sand and going back to his job, his mind whirling with information and lacking sleep, but slowly the thoughts were suppressed by his routine of his job.

A shadow watched him go, noticing no words were exchanged between Sandman and Tsar Lunar nor Jack Frost. Neither was he heading towards the North Pole, but west, following the night and away from the rising sun.

He was done. He said what he had to say, and now all he could do was watch.

* * *

**(Edit: Fix some mistakes and reminding everyone that this is only a one-shot. Love you all!)**

**I'll admit, Pitch has the most beautiful eyes and is my favorite character, especially since Jude Law voices him! But really, guys, I'd think Pitch would really empathize with Jack because, if you really look at it, they've been the same emotions/experiences that have forever scarred them.**

**Inspiration for ficlet: 1) There are no stories about Sandy**

**2) Pitch called MiM in the movie "old friend" like something large had happened between them that maybe no one knows**

**3) MiM has so much power. Wouldn't it make sense for him to be corrupted?**

**4) In Sandy's book, MiM basically said, "hey, since the Moon isn't always bright year round, you wanna look after the kids when the Moon's not full?"**

**5) Jack and Pitch have similar histories. Would that mean that Pitch would have a bit of a soft spot for him (he DID try to recruit him)?**

**Please review! I really, really would appreciate it! Check out my stories on my profile too! For all those who know my work, I'm so sorry for not updating or posting new stories. Summer kind of ruined, and has made life a wreck. But hey, I'm going to try to get back into gear and write more fics!**


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